One Less Lonely Christmas
by godscousininlaw
Summary: Perhaps it was that Arthur didn't want to spend another Christmas alone. Maybe, just maybe, Arthur wanted someone to be with this Christmas, even if it meant being with the frog. Not that he would ever admit any of this. Will be M soon for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

Walking through campus on Christmas Eve with someone as opposed to strolling home in the cold as usual on this night was not something Arthur was used to. Especially when that someone happened to be his particularly flamboyant and attractive, dare I say friend, who was currently trying to snatch the blonde's gloved hand as they went along. It was rather unfathomable to Arthur how he had quite reluctantly agreed to go over to Francis's place that chilly evening, especially since their relationship was.. rocky, to say the least.

Perhaps it was that Arthur didn't want to spend another Christmas alone, being left in solitude by his other friends, who obviously had better things to do than hang out with him. Maybe, just maybe, Arthur wanted someone to be with this Christmas, even if it meant being with the frog. Not that he would ever admit any of this. Hell, the blonde's inability to admit these things to himself is astounding, and even more so, Francis's ability to pick up on it, something no one else could seem able to do.

Soon, Francis's attempts at grasping the other's hand were not in vain, and he had successfully entwined their fingers after a bit of work, which rather surprisingly, Arthur had stopped resisting. Arthur didn't mind it too much, he supposed, though having never really held hands with anyone for any length of time, or had his palm squeezed so caringly and appreciatively as it was now, made him think. Why was he now touching with the guy whom his hand usually busy slapping or strangling in frustration?

Shaking his head a little, Arthur thought back to when he had first met Francis. The day he had begun to detest that damn Frenchman. It was in English class, the first day of that course. Arthur later learned that Francis had transferred to Britain for photography, majoring in it for college, though he had to take English as well to improve upon his language. The man had sat in front of him while he was peacefully reading a book, and that was Francis's first mistake in his encounter with Arthur.

Mistake number two: Interrupting him while he was reading. Now, normally, just simply having someone sit in front of him in that particular cramped classroom where all the desked were squished together meant trouble. It was common knowledge to not sit anywhere near Arthur in fact, he needed his personal space. If you didn't respect that, you might walk home with a black eye.

Now Francis rather stupidly had decided it was a good idea to begin checking Arthur out a few minutes into class, being one to never overlook an attractive possible mate. Well, mate or bed buddy. Unfortunately, with this time, he had picked a rather bad person to try and flirt around with, for as soon as his finger hooked on the edge of Arthur's book, a hand slapped him right in the face, causing Francis to jump back in surprise.

"Ow! What was that for mon cher? Goodness!" Francis chuckled, trying to ignore the stinging pain on his face as he rubbed his cheek, gazing at Arthur, who had decided to ignore him after that, hoping he would stop bothering him in the middle of reading a wonderful piece of literature. "You're quite the feisty one it seems, hm?" Francis's mistake number three was thinking he still had a chance with Arthur.

Arthur sighed in irritation and glared up at Francis over his book, highly annoyed by now and slamming his book shut, sat up and pushed the Frenchman away from him, whom hadn't learned his lesson and was now leaning on his desk. "What the bloody hell do you want, you nasty frog?" he asked, a clear tone of venom in his voice. Other students who were watching the situation were soon praying for the poor bastard that was trying to get with Arthur as he smiled charmingly and brushed a golden lock from his face.

"Oh nothing much, mon ami.. Just wanted to get to know a handsome classmate," Francis replied smoothly, gaining a look of daggers. "Maybe learn such a pretty boy's name, hm?" Francis's hand was sneakily creeping along the desk towards Arthur's, at least before it was smacked away with a book, leaving Francis's hands bright red. "Fuck off, frog," Francis had flinched and whimpered a little at the pain now in his face and his hand. This attractive boy was rather ticking him off now, but he wanted him, dammit.

Lips pulling in a pout, eyebrows furrowing a little, Francis reluctantly had pulled away, though still watching Arthur, who in turn was watching him back. Though the new student was, dare he say rather alluring and attractive, there was no way Arthur was having any of that shit. "Hmph. Well someone isn't much of a gentleman," Francis said curtly, hoping to set off a nerve if this boy was a stereotypical Brit like it seemed he would be.

Arthur stiffened and balled up his fists, growing angry. Francis's plan had worked. "Oh, I'M not the gentleman here? Really? REALLY?" Arthur stood up and immediately went to take a swing at Francis, whom was expecting this and simply caught the man's fist. "Well, if you are one, maybe have the courtesy to share your name?" Francis laughed softly, ducking another punch aimed at him by Arthur, who was severely frustrated by now.

Arthur growled and replied angrily, "Arthur. Bloody Kirkland. And what is your name Frenchie? Horny Wine Guzzling Frog?" This comment got a laugh from the small crowd of students forming around the two in the classroom, and Francis grit his teeth, sending his fist at Arthur's face, who was not prepared for the blow and Francis's fist caught him in the nose. Arthur raised his hand to hold his nose, and groaning. Soon Francis was groaning too, having gotten a swift kick between the legs as a response.

Francis shot Arthur a nasty look, which was returned with a satisfied smirk and the charming blonde was about to retaliate again with a similar kick, but he held back, clearing his throat and straightening up after the pain. After all, if he was ever going to get with this fiesty Briton, which he quite wanted to, he liked a guy with some fight in him, he wouldn't want to be kicking the man's assets, now would he.

"A-alright, alright, you win, you win!" Francis said, putting his hands up in forfeit. "You put up a good fight… Monsieur Kirkland, was it?" Chuckling, Francis put out his hand in a friendly gesture. Arthur wasn't all too trusting of the Frenchman's words, but hesitantly took Francis's hand in his own, about to shake it, when Francis pulled him over by it and kissed him deeply, though quickly and teasingly, releasing him with a skilled flick of the tongue across Arthur's sweet lips.

Arthur stumbled back, stunned by this, but soon shook his head, face reddening in embarrassment and anger, cursing and muttering as students laughed around them. "W-why you huge PRICK!" he screeched, gaining a suggestive wink and a handblown kiss. That damn frog. Arthur was angry at him, and, well himself too. The kiss was.. well to say the least incredible, it was evident the man was a practised kisser, though of course he would never admit any of this. Especially not the fact he sort of enjoyed it.

"Oh, mon cher, that's inappropriate language, and why would you be mentioning my prick?" He tutted teasingly at Arthur, who was looking more and more enraged by the second. "Are you perhaps trying to suggest something, hm?" Arthur growled, about to hit him or scream at him again, when the professor finally arrived, walking in, and everyone immediately had to sit down, not wanting to get yelled at by her. And so Arthur spent the whole class furious and bright red while having to watch Francis sit in front of him, every once in a while shooting him smug looks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **_Hey guys! Moving this story to rated T for now, though next chapter it'll be back in M, for reasons that I'm sure you can guess. FORESHADOWING FTW. So yes. I hope you are enjoying the story, and thank you very much or all the reviews, they are greatly appreciated, keep 'em coming!_

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><p>"Arthur? You alright, mon cher?" Arthur snapped back into reality upon hearing Francis's voice, back to where they were, walking in the cold and the snow, not in a college classroom the day they met. "Huh? Yea I'm fine.." Arthur must've been thinking for a while, as now they had already reached Francis's dorm, which was rather large compared to most.<p>

Francis politely opened the door for his friend, watching him as he walked inside. He could hardly believe it himself. Arthur was spending Christmas with him. How long had it been since he had wanted to be with Arthur? Spend time with him, talk to him. Hell, he didn't even care if they slept together or not, which wasn't very likely, seeing as how he could barely recall the last time they had even kissed. But it didn't matter. Just so long as they were together.

"Hm. It's changed a bit since I was last here," Arthur commented, looking about the place once he was inside and hanging his coat onto a coatrack open for when you walked in. There was a warm, cozy air to it, and it somewhat reminded Arthur of home. Francis smiled, removing his own jacket and hanging it up, closing and locking a door behind them.

"Oui, I've been redecorating and such recently.. ma mère didn't like it very much before," Francis replied chuckling. "It feels more comfortable and cozy now, non?" Arthur nodded, it was as if the man was reading his mind. (or reading through the fourth wall) Taking his guest's hand, Francis made his way into the living room, leading Arthur there and setting himself down on the suede couch, patting the cushion next to him, grinning in a playful manner and inviting the other to sit down.

Rolling his eyes at Francis, Arthur sat down beside the man, leaning back into the couch and making himself comfortable. "So, what exactly do people do on Christmas Eve? What do you do?" Arthur felt he almost would regret the second question, but Francis's answer was surprisingly not as suggestive as he had expected. Francis merely chuckled and did the classic 'pretend to stretch and place arm on your partner's shoulder' move, which he pulled off smoothly and rather well, a feat for such a cheezy and predictable flirtation device.

"Well, dear," he started slowly, rather pleased Arthur wasn't fighting his arm as the fussy man might normally do, "I, for Christmas Eve, generally invite a nice woman over for some pleasant wine and nice dinner I cooked. " Francis paused for a moment, a devious smirk on his face. "Or, of course, invite over a nice man, maybe even catching a man for kissing under the mistletoe, hm?" With this, he tipped Arthur's head to look right at him, gazing into those green eyes deeply, in a charmingly seductive way, while murmuring these words. That was pressing his luck, and he was promptly delivered a stinging slap across the face.

"Don't even think about it frog," Arthur said briskly, watching as Francis withdrew, rubbing his cheek. Though Arthur said these things, somehow he knew something was going to slip, whether it was the inevitable dose of alcohol Francis would offer, and he would without a doubt accept, or maybe it would be the delicious food, or the chestnuts Arthur knew Francis would romantically offer to roast over the open fire, which there actually was one in the living room, putting off a wonderful heat. Whatever it was, it would be something. Never would there be nothing coming out of a night with Francis, for anyone.

Francis pouted, rather put out that Arthur hit him; he hadn't been _that_ bad really. Well, besides obviously trying to stun his friend with his own rather alluring demeanor. "Aw, lighten up mon cher! Just trying to ahem, set the moment, you could say?" Francis chuckled, though Arthur's furrowed glare was still upon him.

"Hrm. Set the moment for what, seduction?" Arthur mocked teasingly, cocking an eyebrow. "And since there hasn't appeared to be any mistletoe in this house so far as I can tell, what about that dinner, hm?" Francis laughed at this inquiry, grinning wide at the blonde. Arthur was rather amusing tonight, but he actually was rather excited about the dinner. He had a special wine saved and everything.

"Hungry?" Francis hopped up off the couch and offered his hand for Arthur, whom only tentatively received it, using the Frenchman's arm to pull himself up. Making sure Arthur was stable after being pulled off his seat, Francis continued on to lead the man into the kitchen. "Well I do have some appetizers we can make do with until the turkey is ready, which won't be for another couple hours or so."

Arthur nodded, thinking it would be just fine for now, but he couldn't help but wonder how the two of them were going to manage to fill up the time in between now and when the turkey was ready for dinner. Stepping from the pretty, polished wood floors onto the tile of the kitchen, Arthur looked around, rather impressed with the elegant design and all the utensils and ingredients around the place. The marvelous fragrance that seemed to loom around the room must've been coming from the rack of spices along one of the counters, which smelled strongly of cinnamon.

Of course, a well-stocked kitchen such as this was simply normal, and possibly even essential to Francis, having grown up in a family of talented chefs. The same could not be said for Arthur. Arthur was lucky if there was any decent food in his fridge at all at any particular time.

"Nice kitchen," Arthur commented sincerely as he watched Francis move about, looking through cabinets and soon opening the fridge. He bent over to reach something on the bottom shelf, his arse in full view, making Arthur to wish to look away, but unable to tear his eyes from the sight. It was as if Francis was purposely moving his arse for Arthur's viewing pleasure. The man did have a rather fine back end.

Francis stood back up, bearing a fancy looking tray of shrimp, all pink and perfect looking, lined up meticulously around the ring of sauces in the center of the display. "Everything alright Arthur?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow at him, having caught him staring. Quickly looking up and snapping back into his right mind, he chuckled awkwardly, replying, "Aha ha, yes everything's just fine, frog." Francis smirked and shot Arthur a wink before taking the plastic wrap off of their appetizer.

"Yes, I'm sure checking out my goods was indeed 'just fine' indeed, non?" Francis wiggled his ass at Arthur, cracking up, meanwhile the poor guy was blushing madly, eyebrows furrowed and embarrassed.

"I-I was not "checking out you goods" Francis!" he protested, flustered. "A-and even if I was, you were the one putting them out there!" Arthur pouted, fuming at Francis. What a damn suggestive comment. Even so, who wouldn't look at that kind of display if it was so obviously put out? It wasn't like he was attracted to the damn frog or anything.. it was just the damn frog was _attractive_ was all.

Calmly, with an amused smile on his face, Francis stepped over to his discomposed friend and places his hand on the side of Arthur's face, kissing his forehead, which made the man's cheeks grow an even darker shade of pink. "Calm down lapin, it's alright," he said, smiling softly at Arthur. "'Ell, even I would stare at my ass if I had been you." Francis chuckled, moving his hand down to rest upon Arthur's, though the Briton pulled away.

"Yes, I'm sure you would," he grumbled, looking down. Francis sighed softly, pulling away and moving to get out something else from the cupboards. Soon he had set up a nice little plate with sliced cheese and fancy crackers, picking up both it and the shrimp and carrying them to the table.

"Arthur, would you mind retrieving a certain bottle of wine for me?" Francis asked, looking over at Arthur, who had sat down at the small table now. Well there was the dose of alcohol he had predicted.

"Wine? Where is it?"

"Middle shelf in the pantry, it's small, red wine, you can't miss it." Arthur nodded, muttering under his breath something about how the only wine Francis ever had was red, but he soon returned to their little set up bearing the corrected bottle, and Francis smiled graciously at him, setting down the wine glasses and taking the alcohol.

Arthur sat down, watching as Francis took the corkscrew he got out off of the table and de-corking the bottle of wine. Once the cork came out with a 'pop' a delicious fragrance wafted out of the bottle, and Francis inhaled the scent deeply, smiling, opening the bottle was one of the best parts of collecting fine wines."Ah, I love the smell of a well-aged wine," he said dreamily, pouring the potent liquid into each of their glasses. Setting the cork on the table, Francis sat down finally as well, next to Arthur, and held up his glass for a toast.

"To a marvelous Christmas Eve with my dear friend, oui?" Rolling his eyes a little, Arthur offered up his drink as well, the glasses clinking as they were brought together. Taking a sip off of the wine, Arthur's face warmed a little, the taste marvelous on his tongue. "That is delicious," he said, licking his lips and going to take another drink. Francis nodded cheerily in agreement, very pleased with this bottle. He watched as Arthur continued through his first glass, occasionally taking a cracker in between gulps of alcohol.

"Well it's not hard booze, but for wine, quite marvelous." Arthur chuckled, and having been drinking it rather quickly, the wine was starting to affect him already, seeing as how Arthur could never really hold much before getting a buzz. Francis knew this, and was kicking himself for pondering what he could possibly get away with, what Arthur might agree to, while under the spell of French wine. Deciding to risk it, feeling a bit bad, Francis had to let one sly, seductive comment slip.

"Mm.. it is good," he murmured softly, gazing at Arthur over his glass. "But I do wonder what it would taste like on your lips.." Francis let his eyes move from his friend's soft, pink lips, absolutely delicious looking, to those brilliant green eyes, which were looking back at him with some unease, indecision.

Shifting a little, Arthur fought with himself in his mind over this. He had to respond, he had to; but how? Should he retort as he would as usual, snarky and closed off, or would he take a chance? Surely it wouldn't hurt.. Francis wouldn't talk about it if this one thing turned into something else, would he? Even if he did, Arthur figured he could always blame it on the booze, a perfectly good excuse.

"Well.. why don't you find out?" Arthur murmured back, eyes curious and full of anticipation. Rather shocked, Francis took a deep breath, praying that he wasn't going to be slapped for his next action, and regaining himself, put on an alluring, bewitching gaze. "If you insist," he purred in a low, shiver inspiring tone, leaning in close, and kissed him.


End file.
